Ok book about all people stopping to sleep. Enjoyable as a quick read although I didn't care much for the style it was written in. Just too smartly.
But it didn't. I just endured. And through enduring, I learned suffering's dirty little secret: the sufferer is always bigger than the pain. You roll around on the floor like a baby. You vomit up tears. You shit your thoughts into a plastic bag and try to asphyxiate them. I did all that And still existence persisted. From the ceaselessly beckoning no-time of my Dream to an empty classroom where time burned endlessly like a torture cell light bulb: through it all, pain remained something inside me – remained, therefore, something ultimately smaller than me.
